


Divine Intervention feat. Korekiyo Shinguuji

by spicedon



Series: Pandanganium Collection [1]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: M/M, Pandanganium, posting this drabble here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-09 01:53:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13471218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicedon/pseuds/spicedon
Summary: Rantaro opens the door to see a close friend for the first time.





	Divine Intervention feat. Korekiyo Shinguuji

It’s been weeks ever since the initial arrival of those two humans, or rather. Former humans, after the mana consumption in the air revealed their true identities, new forms. A bitter Hashihime consumed by his insecurities, slowly worsening during his mission to work out an unforeseen truth and a harmonious Demigod who could possibly be a songstress goddess’ descendant, passing on her blood to have someone related guarding a shrine.

Typical. Rantaro knew his fellow deities best, but he hadn’t seen them in ages. Nonetheless, becoming imprisoned pushed off his sister search routine for centuries. He hung onto minimal amounts of faith to linger inside this prison, staying still and waited for someone to free his fellow inmates. There’s a chance his shrine still exists, he hadn’t disappeared from the mortal world yet.

This gave him some hope, enough to remain independent. He stood outside of his cell door, watching everyone else intermingle and chat. The center was always a forum, somewhere that has a friendly atmosphere without harmful intent. Now, it’s the last time he’ll see them separated before their departure into the outside world. How much had changed? Is there peace? Will they be accepted?

Keeping his questions in mind, he eyed Kirumi, then Ryoma, Angie, Tsumugi… A headcount on who’s here, regardless, someone’s missing and he knows who. His attention glided over to the steel-plated door, rusty iron locks throwing off a gigantic red flag for those who approach. Nobody other than he and Angie talked to the prisoner caged between four unbroken walls. Without any real contact, he’s starving to death, losing his mind and attempting to break free.

Making sure his **“faithful companion”** , Kokichi, hadn’t noticed him slipping away ( the kitsune remains busy poking Tenko’s buttons ) Rantaro’s sandals dampened his footsteps as he walked to the locked door. Entry’s forbidden, but as a Boundary God no longer under anyone’s control he’s allowed to break these barriers.

He silently thanked his kitsune friend for the keys, although using them is unnecessary, and let his fingers soak each lock in strong magic. Clapping his hands together in a prayer, the metal loudly ignited to forcefully unlock the door.

“What was that?” Rantaro ignored the sudden disruption, before opening the door and poking his head inside.

“Kiiiyo? _Kiyo!_ ”, the god shouted. He bit his lip, withdrawing from the darkness and returning back into the light. There’s certainly something wrong here, he’s been awfully silent; Korekiyo sought freedom the moment his Lunarian guest cursed him until her wish became fulfilled. She haunted him, tormenting the former priest through possession and controlling his very being like a marionette on strings.

Rantaro hated anyone from the moon, not as much as Miyadera though.

A long-drawn moment of silence unnerved him, his gaze staring into absolute emptiness. Is he asl… Oh.

Golden orbs illuminated the darkness, shining through his soul and catching the god off-guard. Gradually growing closer each step Rantaro took backing away. His arms defensively thrown up in the air, he braced for impact as the sudden pounce of his Naga friend made him flinch.

Now, he’s dead. On the floor. Looking up at the long-haired reptile whose curved claws tightly gripped his arm, Rantaro took his confrontation as a chance to completely examine his friend up close.

Burning yellow, serpentine eyes complementing the solid red markings underneath his sharp eyelashes. A mask adorning the lower part of his face, having a peculiar pattern of teeth on both sides while a polygonal lock sat in the middle of it. Along with Korekiyo’s facial features, his torso remained covered in thorn-less vines and a thick piece of holy rope surrounded his waist. Said waist trailed down into shimmering scales that covered an extremely long and thick tail, large and terrifying.

Rantaro’s guess is, he’s nowhere near venomous and a constrictor. Otherwise, what would Korekiyo do with a 20-something feet long tail attached to his body?

His cerulean tipped bangs sloppily covered one part of his face, Rantaro blew them off and chuckled, “Kiyo, heeeey!”

Despite trying to keep the conversation casual, it trailed off into an awkward silence. Rantaro held his dithering smile for seconds, staring off elsewhere and sighing. Now, he noticed the panic going on in the background.

Tsumugi’s audible whispers turning into ear-bleeding shrieks, Kaito’s yelling his ass off, “Get off of Amami, what has he done with you!”, he says. Tenko’s calling the snake an utter degenerate, Angie’s wrathful threats, Kirumi’s willpower strengthening the room through her single, concerned stare, Kaede holding back her own power, Miu’s vulgar insults covering Kiibo’s efforts to calm everyone down. During the midst of all of this chaos, Kokichi’s cackling louder than before.

Is he going to die? Possibly. Because, Rantaro felt his attacker’s head rub against his chest and nuzzle his neck. He’s definitely wrong, perhaps, Korekiyo _is_ venomous. Was it a mistake letting him out? It can’t be, this is an action he’s responsible for and he knew well that it’d be a great idea.

Nobody could live safely, knowing there’s a lady killer amongst them unchained and untied. This is a wrong decision, having a wolf feast on a herd of sheep. Rantaro deeply prayed to some other god, other than himself for a swift death.

Suddenly, the world went black as he shut his eyes. No, wait. He reopened them, feeling lifted from the ground and close to the Naga’s bare chest. A heavy constriction surrounded his body; it wasn’t Korekiyo’s tail, rather, it was his arms.

Is this cold-blooded murderer… _hugging_ him? Tch, it’s cruel to call him that. Even if it’s the truth, Korekiyo’s still a friend underneath that terrifying appearance of his.

Rantaro heard his shaking breaths, pausing to hear muffled whimpers and chokes. Smiling, the God embraced Korekiyo back in his own hug, stroking his back to soothe his close friend’s sorrow.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I apologize. Please, forgive me.” Korekiyo spoke in his usual raspy voice, less high-pitched when his cheeks are drowned in small streams of tears. Holding back his feelings caused harm, releasing them seemed like heaven to a usually calm and intelligent person. It’s hard to trust anyone to pulled horrible deeds on his level, then again, Rantaro was nowhere in the position to say something like that. Not here.

“I just…” His voice dropped into a breathless whisper, “I wanted to thank you for your kindness. You didn’t know, you could have been simply bored. But, your presence… it distracted me from Her.”

The room calmed down, so has the god. There’s whispers surrounding the boys, eager and distasteful, some carried intrigue, happiness. It’s a grim change in the atmosphere, turned tense and relieved.

Rantaro blinked, cuddling his bare skin, “Hey, hey. It’s no problem, I thought that you needed a shoulder to lean on. That’s all.” It wasn’t at first. He stopped by at first on his own interest and curiosity. His friends constantly avoided the certain area sitting untouched for years, where scratching could be heard and aggressive requests that never sat well with Tsumugi. Angie, was pleased. She thought the prisoner needed some faith.

Atua as a god, had blood-stained faith on his hands and Rantaro could hardly give a damn.

“Just, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank…” Korekiyo’s words transformed back into heavy sobs, while the god took his time comforting the formerly dangerous naga who turned into a shriveling mess.

Afterwards, Korekiyo pulled back and gave the god some space, letting his scaled arms drop to his sides in an effort to calm down. He felt his friend’s palm slip into his, Rantaro’s holding his hand and gazing back up at him. This time, with an authentic radiance that replaced his fear.

“You know,” he began, “You belong outside with everyone else. I know that staying here’s _never_ been good for your health to begin with. So, how about it? Let’s go up and outta here, old friend.”

Guiding them both into the soon-to-be broken down elevator, Rantaro added, “And by the way, take off your mask. I don’t think you’ll need it anymore where we’re going.

**Author's Note:**

> amaguuji makes me sweaty


End file.
